


Sugared Snow

by starespressos



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A bit of a fairytale really, Bathing, Boxing Day, Christmas Season, Customer Service, First Kiss, Lush, M/M, Massages, Playing Tag, Shameless Lush product advertising basically what the heck, Strangers to Lovers, shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-22 01:35:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13156386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starespressos/pseuds/starespressos
Summary: A Lush employee meets a Lush customer. Product presentations ensue.





	Sugared Snow

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, happy holidays!
> 
> Banner by my wife and bro for lyfe [Saga](https://www.instagram.com/rakas.saga/)
> 
> Lush products used here:  
> [Dean's Gel](https://www.lushusa.com/shower/shower-gels/berry-berry-christmas/9999907468.html)  
> [Charlie's Gel](https://www.lushusa.com/shower/shower-gels/snow-fairy/9999906474.html)  
> [Dean's Lotion](https://www.lushusa.com/body/body-lotions/once-upon-a-time/9999907627.html)  
> [Charlie's Lotion](https://www.lushusa.com/body/body-lotions/dream-cream/9999900031.html)  
> [Bomb](https://www.lushusa.com/bath/bath-bombs/golden-wonder/03460.html)  
> [Massage Bar](https://www.lushusa.com/body/massage-bars/soft-coeur/02132.html)

 

Dean was frustrated.

November had turned into December, but nothing had changed weather-wise -- it was still gray, dark, watery, cold, and windy enough to break any poor umbrella that dared to question its might. Wearing his trustworthy leather jacket Dean was somewhat safe from getting completely soaked, but it did little to help the ringing in his ears caused by miles of walking in the watery inferno.

Out of all the days his car could've broken down, this was the day it did. With a bit over three miles to town, Dean's Impala had come to a complete stop after a moment of sputtering. It first had looked like he was out of coolant, and as he put some more in there, a tall cloud of white smoke had erupted. Great. Head gasket it is.

Because he'd taken a back road in hopes of no traffic, he'd also been unable to find a lift. He had been so pissed at himself he had forgotten to take the umbrella -- although now that he was finally hitting the town, he was happy about that. People were really struggling with those. Well, at least he made it here somewhat intact. He spent a couple of minutes in the lobby of a movie theater, trying to dry himself off and get warm, before continuing on his way.

Sam would get off work in two hours. He only had one thing to do in town today, and that would take five minutes, tops. This meant there was plenty of time to have a cup of coffee with a slice of pie, and get bored. He could be smart enough to buy all his other friends presents as well, but since he didn't know how much he could fit into his brother's hybrid convertible, it would be safer to keep buying to a minimum. Besides, there was still time. The holidays were two weeks away.

Today he was here to buy his friend Charlie a gift. Although Charlie said they were fine, he really wanted to buy her something special -- and that's how he ended up driving in the Saturday rain, only to be greeted by the worst shopping frenzy of the season. Charlie and he got in a particularly bad argument over something trivial back in July, and even though there was no bad blood left, he wanted to please the little sister he never wanted by obliging to her wishes for once.

As he stepped in through the door to Lush and was greeted by a torrent of scents and glitter, he instantly had regrets. He could barely see anything through the swarm of people, and even when he could, the products made zero sense. It looked more like an elitist cheese display than a cosmetic store, and he was just about to turn on his heels and go buy store brand instead, when he was greeted.

Dean knew touching customers without their permission was probably against the store policy and was about to reprimand the clerk for touching him -- until he realized that nobody had, in fact, touched him. The greeting in itself had been so imperative it had halted Dean's ability to move for a second; it was nothing short of wondrous. He turned to face the greeter and _oh, okay_ that's the clearest shade of blue he'd ever seen in anyone's eyes.

"How may I help you today?"

Dean looked around. People were everywhere, but suddenly, everything was a bit further away; it was like Blue Eyes had brought in a blackboard pointer and poked everyone just a bit. Absentmindedly, he looked at the guy's hands. They were glittery, but not holding a pointer.

"I don't know, to be honest," he replied, looking around again. "There seems to be a rush with you people today. I don't want to keep you, you could probably make tons of sales while I try to get to know what these things are."

He gestured towards a sack of balls next to him. It sparkled and looked almost edible, too.

"No, you're doing well," the clerk insisted, "Some people come in here and take a bite off the soaps there in the main table."

Dean huffed out a laugh. "Do they think it's cheese?"

"Absolutely. So you should be fine," he resumed, leaning in a little to whisper. "You don't seem like a soap-eater."

What a dork this guy was. Dean noticed his smile hadn’t faded yet.

"I like to think I'm not. But I'm not used to this amount of... Of sparkle, to be honest. I am overwhelmed."

"What are you looking for?"

A customer tried to pass them by, so Dean had to squeeze in closer to the strange clerk. He could feel his nerves trying to get the best of him, so he did what he knew best and gave the man a flirty grin.

"Usually, I know their first names before I get this close," he sighed. The man blushed and lowered his gaze, but then found a wave of confidence.

"I'm Castiel, and I'm trying to know what you're after today. I won't give discounts per your behavior, so you can drop it."

His voice never faltered, or sounded rude, but Dean got the hint of rejection. It felt almost crushing, which was silly, since he'd only used the flirting to get through an awkward situation.

“I'm looking for a present for my awesome little sister,” Dean replied, finally answering Castiel's question. “I don't know anything about your products, but I want to stay on her good side.”

“Ah, that makes sense. Does your sister celebrate Christmas?” Castiel answered, slowly starting to walk. He guided them through the group of people and into what seemed to be the shower gel section.

“Uh, no, actually. Weird of you to ask.”

Castiel turned his gaze to Dean, tilting his head a little. “Is it?”

“Well, for an educated person, no. It's polite to ask if they want to be involved in that. But I thought people who make sales wouldn't be interested in that.”

“Well, I do more than make sales,” Castiel sighed, almost frustrated now, “and I myself celebrate Saturnalia, so it would make sense for me to ask.”

“Of course. Do I already seem like a soap-eater? Are you annoyed?”

_Why do I even care?_

“No, I'm not,” Castiel said, almost smiling. “Okay. Tell me a bit about your sister.”

“She's one of the most awesome people I've ever met. She's wicked smart, talented in anything that involves information technology, and also a total nerd.”

“Star Wars?”

“Dude, who doesn't like Star Wars?”

Castiel shrugged, and took a bottle of dark turquoise liquid from the shelf. Then, he reached for another bottle, a pastel pink one.

“So, as you can see, all of our products are also available without packaging,” he said, gesturing towards the solid bottle-shaped soaps next to the ones that included liquids, “but I will be testing these on you, and that's easier to do with a liquid form.”

“What?”

Castiel huffed, obviously amused, and walked to a corner with two chairs around a table. Dean took a seat while Castiel went to get a bowl of water to set in between them. Then, he unceremoniously reached out a hand for Dean to take.

“Alright, our first product is a more sublime scent, and the color and the, yes, glitter give it a little extra flair,” he said, squeezing a little amount of gel on Dean's hand after dipping it in the bowl. “Let me work the scent first, and I'll let you sniff later.”

“'kay,” Dean said hoarsely. Castiel's hands worked around his palm, then the back of his hand, and along his fingers. If there were people here before, he couldn't tell what the case was now – he felt they were alone in a little glitter-colored bubble of scents and a weird, soothing joy. He was startled to notice how calm he suddenly was, even with – or because of? -- a stranger caressing his hand.

“Why are you wet?”

“Huh?”

This time, Castiel's smile was certain. He cupped his hand to lift water on Dean's hand, rinsing the foam away.

“You're wet from head to toe. Why? Didn't you know it was raining?”

“I walked for miles,” Dean admitted, “car broke.”

“Oh, I'm sorry,” Castiel said, ceasing his actions to give Dean an empathetic gaze. “That must suck.”

“It does.”

“Alright, smell it.”

Dean obliged, and an involuntary moan escaped his throat. It was... amazing. He didn't know shit about perfumes or scents, and had no clue what this included, but he did know it was one of the best things he'd ever smelled.

“This is good,” he mustered out, “this is really good.”

Castiel raised his eyebrows and nodded. “It's cranberry, blueberry, orange, and bergamot,” he said, “not tested on animals, and it's vegan.”

“Unlike me,” Dean said. Castiel hummed.

“Well, as long as you try to make sustainable choices, it’s enough. None of us is perfect. Besides, coming here is a good first step.”

“I'm ashamed to admit I should think about sustainability more. I just get through my days as it is. I don't have time to weigh each of my choices.”

Castiel gestured towards the other hand, dipped it in the water and dropped a bit of the pink one in the palm of Dean's hand. Dean tried to feel ashamed about the image of him, in all his leather-jacketed and five o'clock shadowed masculine glory, getting what basically was a liquid cotton candy hand rub from a strange man – but in reality, he couldn't. It felt good after the march in the typhoon outside to be here in the warmth, and somehow also safe from the crowd.

“You need a guide,” Castiel said, his voice hesitant. “If you had someone in your life who already made sustainable choices, it'd be easier for you to join in.”

“I have an ass brother who kind of lives the life,” Dean laughed. “Don't know if I could handle another one.”

“Why did your car break?”

“Head gasket. I had forgotten it in my yearly maintenance go-through and it instantly had its revenge.”

Castiel laughed. “I wouldn't know. I know too little about cars. Alright, how does that smell?”

He inhaled along his skin again, and the scent, although totally different, was exactly as good. This was far sweeter, almost unbearably so, and still it felt like it was exactly what Charlie would like.

“I think this is the one,” he said, lifting the hand, “although I love the other one as well. It's just... It's more of what I'd like for myself, maybe.”

“Then you should treat yourself,” Castiel said, leaned back and freaking _winked_ , and it was so awkward it was adorable, “it's here only for the season.”

“You know, I will,” Dean said, frowning, “although my brother won't let me hear the end of it.”

“Then, he's a bad seed in your family,” Castiel said seriously.

“He's really not. He's the best of us.”

“I doubt that.”

Dean lifted his eyebrows, but said nothing. He was instantly turned down with his fake flirting earlier, so he didn’t want to read anything flirty into what Castiel said – even though it did sound exactly like that.

“If you're up for a suggestion, I'd recommend a body lotion to go with the gel. If you want to stay on your sister's good side, she does need the whole package.”

“Absolutely,” Dean said, suddenly afraid of this interaction ending already. “Bring it on.”

Castiel left the table for a while, and returned with two black pots.

“First, this is what I'd recommend with the first hand,” he said and Dean reached out his hand again. “It's apple infusion, grapefruit and jojoba oil, and Sicilian lemon. Also vegan, for what it's worth.”

Dean could smell the lotion before he even tried to. It was intoxicating, and caused a thought to form that stirred his chest almost uncontrollably. He tried to stop himself from getting further with it, but nope, it was there, and crystal clear – how it would feel like to be smelling this straight from Castiel's skin, preferably with him having nothing on, and-

Castiel coughed. Dean startled and swallowed.

“...please, smell it.”

His voice sounded like this was a repeat. Dean didn't really need to smell it again, but he did it to humor Castiel.

“I'll have this,” he said. “I don't even care. Give me this.”

Castiel grinned. “Alright, then for the other lotion?”

“I think so,” he said and let Castiel rub that one in as well. What the hell was going on here? Why was he so attracted to a man he'd never met before? Was he actually being drugged by this weird place?

“Now this might go better with your gift. Rose, lavender, and oat milk,” Castiel said. The scent with this one was more subtle, but it did go together with the soap they’d used previously.

“I agree. Just... I'll take all of these,” Dean said, his throat feeling heavy. Castiel looked up to him and – and did he just glance at Dean's lips?

“Are we good?” Castiel asked and Dean had a hard time to place the sentence.

“Yes, I think we are. I'll take these and... And be on my way.”

“There's a line at the register, so it'll take me a while to deal with that first. Please look around in the meantime.”

Dean followed the advice given. He slowly wandered across the store, seeing a lot of face masks, and shampoos, and soap, and even more soap. There were also different-shaped bars that could be used for a massage, and Dean was glad Castiel invited him to the register then, before his mind could wander again. This was so unlike him...

“Alright,” Castiel said with a smile. “Found anything more you like?”

_Uh, you?_

“No, not really,” Dean said and paid for his items when prompted. Castiel held out a brown paper bag with extended thumbs and when Dean reached out to take it, Castiel wouldn't let go.

“Now,” he said, and his voice was definitely a tone darker, and quieter, “the shower gel gives instructions that if you really don't know how to use it, you can ask someone you like to show you how to. Because I am such a good person, I wrote my number on the label of your lotion. Just in case you need a more thorough presentation of these products.”

A glint of mischief was visible in Castiel's eyes as he leaned back. “Now! Have a nice day.”

 

**

 

Besides the number that actually does belong to a Castiel Novak (of course Dean would check that, he didn't want to be ridiculed by calling a senator or a brothel), the package also included a “Random Act of Kindness” that's a coffee mask to be used on face and the whole body. He decided to keep it himself rather than give it to Charlie.

But in fear of it being a joke, he didn’t call Castiel.

 

**

 

The next time Dean thought of Castiel was when he returned home from the Winchesters' place on Boxing Day. He'd spent two food and chatter filled days with his parents and his brother, and although he was looking forward to returning to his house with a small Christmas tree and silence, it felt suffocating. It was only a quarter to four, and all of his friends were with their families.

There was no point in thinking that Castiel would be home alone, either.

Still...

Dean smelled the lotion and slid his finger across the number on the label. He wouldn't have left his number if he didn't want Dean to call, right?

Had it also been too long already?

_Wow, you're really going nowhere fast,_ Dean thought, growling at himself. Then, with a frustrated sigh, he dialed.

“Novak residence, Gabriel speaking,” a voice answered.

“Uh,” Dean said, wow, this was awkward, “I'm looking for Castiel.”

“Sure you are, they all are,” Gabriel said with a scoff, “would someone _please_ be looking for me for once?”

“Gabriel,” a gravelly voice came through the speaker, “please.”

“What!”

“Stop being an ass,” Castiel said and apparently tackled Gabriel until he was in charge of the phone. “I'm sorry about that, my brother's a bit thick. Who's there?”

“Uh, hi. It's Dean,” Dean said, clenching his hand to a fist and hitting himself lightly on the forehead, “I know it's been a while and-”

“Dean,” Castiel repeated.

“Yeah. From... The store.”

“Yes, I remember,” Castiel said, and there was a certain sense of amusement to his voice. Dean regretted every single decision in his life that had landed him here, ridiculed by strangers – and it was well-earned, too. This was a stupid idea.

“Alright, let me just,” Castiel continued and there was a sound of the phone being dropped on a hard surface. He could still very well hear the conversation on the other end of the line – Castiel reprimanding Gabriel for still being there, even though he'd very much overstayed his welcome, followed by some arguing over schedules and the sound of a door.

“Dean?”

“Yes, Cas, I'm here,” Dean said. He didn't know why, but he already felt a little better.

“Okay, I'm alone now. I'm pleased to hear from you, although this call is weeks overdue.”

“I'm sorry. I don't know why I didn't call.”

“Yeah, you do, but you don't have to tell me. So, what's up?”

“I just returned from my parents' place and now it's weird and empty... And all my friends are somewhere and I thought of you.”

“Hm, so I'm your last resort?”

Dean sighed. “No, I didn't-”

Castiel laughed. “Please, I'm kidding. Anyway. Would you like to come over?”

“Would that be alright?”

“Absolutely. I'll text you my address, you come when you want to. Bring an overnight bag, if you want to stay for the night, but leave your reservations.”

“My... My what?”

“Your reservations. Try to relax, and we'll have a good time.”

 

**

 

This was, by far, the weirdest thing Dean had ever done. He was on his way to the outskirts of the town, to a detached house far from anything else, to meet a man he'd met once before.

And there was nothing about the whole scenario that didn't scream date. Still, he was uncertain about the nature of their encounter. What if Castiel wanted this to be a date? What if he didn't? What did Dean want?

This wasn't exactly leaving reservations at home...

The house was grand, and made out of white wood, and at the end of a long narrow road with birch trees on each side. It looked majestic, and overwhelming, and rich. Did Castiel live here alone? What kind of salary did a Lush employee have? Dean parked his car next to the Continental that was covered in a thick layer of snow that glistened like sugar. Was there this much snow on his side of town? Was he getting involved in some parallel universe Yuletide fantasyland adventure?

He left his overnight bag at the backseat of his car, not wanting to seem too eager, and ascended the stone steps up to a double door. He rang the doorbell that echoed inside, and waited until Castiel shuffled to his view.

“Hello, Dean,” he said after opening the door, “please, come in. Leave your shoes at the door. Do you want sliding socks? I'm a sucker for sliding socks around the Holidays.”

“I think... I think my socks slide,” Dean replied. “But thank you.”

Castiel smiled and headed back to the hallway. It was enormous and made Castiel, although he was pretty tall, look like the kid from Home Alone. Initially, Dean had thought this would be a double-floor house, and that much was true; still, some of the spaces had been merged to make tall rooms of both the hallway and the living room.

Holding the self-righteous centerpiece spot of the living room instantly to their left was a 30-feet Christmas tree. It was made out of white, luminescent plastic, and had graceful golds and browns for decoration. Lights were twinkling behind the ornaments and branches, giving off a homely glow to the rest of the room.

“Make yourself at home, I'll bring us some chai,” Castiel said, gesturing towards the couch before heading to the insides of the house. Dean walked slowly towards the tree, admiring the obvious detail, and finally sat on the couch. Damn, it was comfortable. He felt his body sliding into a warm, lulling state of... coma?

He startled to the sound of Castiel clearing his throat.

“Hm! Hm? Wasn't asleep,” Dean yelped.

“Oh, I never said you were,” Castiel replied with a wry smile. “I'm glad you're comfortable here. Do you want to sleep for a while?”

“No,” Dean sighed, “I'm sorry. I just... Do you realize how comfortable this couch is?”

“I do. I have picked it, after all.”

“Do you live here alone?”

“Actually, no. This place belongs to the Novaks. My parents travel the world for 11 months a year, and they left yesterday. I do have an apartment in town, but while I'm on vacation, I very much like to spend my time here.”

“No wonder. It's amazing.”

“And you haven't even seen the best parts of it.”

Castiel gave Dean a mug he had been holding, and a whole variety of spices immediately filled Dean's nose. He sighed in contentment, but switched quickly to nervous as he saw the expression Castiel had. He looked... guilty?

“I have to tell you something,” he said, “I think I owe you that.”

“Go right ahead,” Dean said, briefly wondering whether it would be impolite to lift his feet on the coffee table. As if on cue, Castiel put his own feet up, setting an example that Dean followed suit.

“I shouldn't have invited you here before telling you what this is about.”

“Now, that I can agree with. You told me to leave my reservations home, but I can't if I don't know what's going to happen.”

Castiel's mouth twitched, but it was as if he was determined not to smile.

“That would ruin the fun. Okay, I don't want to come off as a Scrooge of any sort, but all my family left this building and I spend most of my time alone. We used to have these grand parties where there'd be all my family and friends, and even though it was enjoyable, my mother tended to force it until it wasn't funny anymore.”

“I can relate. My dad is a bit of a forcer.”

Castiel tilted his head, but continued. “And that's been going on as long as I can remember. Some years, I'd try to call up my friends and throw a shadow party. I only succeeded once, but it was a beautiful thing.”

Dean sipped on his drink, warming both of his hands on the sides. The atmosphere was warm and cozy.

“Well, anyway. It's Boxing Day, and I'm alone, and I am so glad you called because we can now have a party of our own.” Castiel turned towards Dean, looking for signs of _anything_ on his face.

“You're an odd fruit, aren’t you?” Dean finally said, “I would love to party with you.”

The smile that appeared on Castiel's face at that was radiating. “Thank you, Dean.”

They looked at each other for a moment, and something in the air was vibrating. Excitement, maybe.

“So, you said I haven't seen the best parts of the house. Would you like to show me?”

Castiel hummed. “Good,” he said, and Dean wondered why, “I would like to. Drink up, and let's go.”

Dean finished his drink and hoped there would be more somewhere in the immediate future, and followed Castiel towards the kitchen. They left their mugs for now, and continued to the dining hall. The drapes were a soft dark red color, and candles were ready to be lit. Dean felt his heart clench in his chest at the thought of Castiel putting up Christmas ornaments and candles alone in a house this big. It was a house in dire need of the sound of laughter.

As it would have been easy to guess, all of the rooms of the two-story house were stunning. Painted mostly white, the walls had invited in single pieces of artwork, some painted, some sculpted, and the dark hardwood floors gave enough contrast for the place to look like a home instead of a hospital. In the hallway upstairs, Castiel took his socks off to step on a large natural white carpet. He then turned to look at Dean, who thought it would be impolite not to do the same.

As they stood on the carpet, Castiel with his back turned to Dean because he was putting on some music, Dean's gaze wandered through the room and landed on the man standing before him. Castiel was wearing a dorky, obviously comfortably soft red woolen pullover with gray college pants, and to be honest, he looked like a Christmas gnome. If Dean could, he would put a red cap on Castiel's dark, disheveled hair. And before he could imagine what he'd do for a second longer, he shook himself free and took a couple of steps back.

“Can't catch me,” he yelped, turned on his heels and started sprinting across the room. He jumped down the stairs three or four at a time, and continued running until he'd made a circle through the dining hall and kitchen and back in the living room. Here, he could make one of two choices – go hide behind the giant tree  or exit through the door that most likely led into a bathroom. He decided on the tree, and crouched behind it just in time before Castiel's bare feet arrived in the room.

“Dean, you're being a child,” he said, but his voice was so amused Dean felt his heart jump, “I know you're hiding behind the tree.”

“Then come get me,” Dean answered. Castiel shuffled closer to the tree, barely hesitating, and when he was just a couple of feet away, Dean launched himself up, jumped onto the back of the couch and leaped back on the floor, and through the kitchen, and through the dining hall again, and up the stairs and into the master bedroom, and to the walk-in closet that connected to another bedroom. There, he fell down and let his momentum slide him under the bed.

This time, it took Castiel longer to catch up with him. Dean listened to him scavenge through the house, until he made it to the bedroom he was in. For a moment, it looked like his luck had run out, but then Castiel decided to look to the en suite first. Dean slid from under the bed, tiptoeing towards the closet. As soon as he stepped over the threshold, he was running again.

He passed the stereo now playing some lounge Christmas music, and made it downstairs once more. He took a right before the dining hall and ended in front of a door that was closed, but didn't have a lock. He stepped back to take the handle, and that's when he was surrounded by arms on either side of him, against the door. Dean spun around, meeting The Eyes, and for a second they tried to catch their breath and stared at each other.

“Catch,” Castiel sighed finally, and stepped back to free Dean from the cage his arms had made, “and release.”

They maintained their eye contact for a moment longer, and then Dean laughed. It was a laugh that left his chest light and easy, and died in his throat a little before becoming nervous.

“A perfect house for both tag and hide and seek,” he said, and nodded to himself, “and any kind of other activities, I bet.”

Castiel scrutinized him for a moment while he regretted letting words just slide out of his mouth. He hadn't meant anything with that and now his words were being wrung through an analyzing machine.

“I agree,” Castiel finally stated, “which reminds me. I initially gave you my number because I wanted to offer my services as a Lush employee. Did you learn to use the shower gel?”

There was interest in Castiel's eyes – he was waiting for Dean to take the bait for a leap. If they would remain hide-and-seek party friends, or... Or get in the shower together. Well, two could play that game.

“Hmm, yes,” Dean said tentatively, “I did learn to use the gel.”

He watched Castiel's lips fall apart a little, but there was nothing in his attractive face that reminisced either regret, or disappointment.

“I'm glad,” Castiel continued, squinting, and only when he talked Dean realized they'd been silent for a while. “I mean. It's an easy thing. You just... Lather it.”

The almost-not-there alteration in Castiel's tone was all the confirmation Dean needed. Alright, time to take that leap.

“Yes, but you know what baffles me? Those balls.”

“...Uh, balls?”

Dean made a cup of his hands to vaguely show the size of the thing he was describing.

“In the store, there were these... Balls. In all kinds of baskets and buckets. Tons of different colored and shaped balls. So, are those also naked shower gels or...?”

“Oh,” Castiel said, and his face lit up. And yeah, maybe Dean would want to keep that smile on Castiel's face, no matter the cost. “Those are bath bombs.”

“What? What are bath bombs?”

“They are... Wait. I could tell you, but I could also show you. Would you like to take a bath with me?”

“Uhh... Is the bath going to explode?” Dean asked. He was stalling, because his mind was running – his overnight bag was in the car, and he'd need a change of clothes if he took a bath, and he would be there with who still basically was a stranger, but there was no doubt Dean didn't find him attractive...

“Well, you'll have to come see for yourself. The biggest tub we have is in the downstairs bathroom.”

“As it turns out, I did bring a change of clothes.”

“Ah, and you left them in the car, you sly fox. Alright, go fetch them and I'll start filling the tub.”

 

**

 

Weird.

Weird was exactly the word.

Castiel leaned over to take a golden square-shaped Christmas present bath bomb in his hands. Dean tried to keep his eyes on the item, so he wouldn't stare at the man in the tub with him – how he'd obviously been working out, but in an effortless way. Was Castiel a swimmer?

Dean, at least, was swimming. It was like there'd been something intoxicating in his drink; a warm buzz ran in his veins and made him lightheaded. Castiel handed the present to Dean, and nodded sagely.

“Lower it into the water.”

Dean did as he was told. The box immediately started to fizz and bubble, thick ropes of foam reaching out towards the edges of the tub.

“This is a bath bomb,” Castiel said, “this particular one has cognac, lime and orange.”

“It smells awesome,” Dean admitted, “and it's... turquoise.”

The ball rolled around the tub, spreading a surprising blue-green color while spinning on its axis, and finally dissolved in the water. What was left were a pale turquoise color and golden glitter mist that swirled below the surface like fog on a cold morning.

“It's turquoise, indeed,” Castiel said. “And you love it.”

“Do I?”

They looked at each other. Castiel drew in a breath as if to say something, and exhaled.

_Reservations_ , Dean thought. He sighed and leaned his head back for a moment, and when he looked back at Castiel, he almost gasped. Castiel's expression had changed into something it had never been before – almost shamelessly heated.

“Permission to touch?” he asked, his voice a notch more than a whisper. Dean blinked, twice, and nodded. Then, he noticed his mouth was open, and snapped it shut.

Castiel stretched out his hands and spread his legs a bit. “Come here.”

Dean obliged. He turned around, and leaned back until he was comfortably lying on Castiel's arms. His heart was trying to beat out of his chest, and he felt dizzier than before, and unable to breathe – until Castiel wrapped his arms gently around him.

Dean could feel Castiel's breath in his damp hair, and on his cheek, and for a blinding moment, on his neck. He was already biting his lip and his heart was somersaulting, but Castiel leaned over the side of the tub to grab... A rubber duck.

Dean laughed, and it almost made his chest un-clench. “Are you serious?”

“Of course,” Castiel said, “ducks are an important part of any bath.”

“Should've known,” Dean huffed. The more seconds passed by, the more at ease he felt.

They both watched the duck bravely sail across the water. The moment was silent, and soothing, and relaxing in a way Dean hadn't even realized he had needed. A thought – a weird thought of Castiel and him making this a routine after a day of hard work passed his mind and he scoffed at himself.

“What?”

“I'm being stupid.”

“Do tell,” Castiel pleaded. He didn't speak aloud anymore. The whisper traveled through Dean's body as shivers.

“Nah.”

They stayed silent until the duck started to sink. Dean's mind was blissfully empty – it was a feeling he rarely felt, a complete lack of stress and nagging thoughts. Sometimes, he could achieve this with a night of drinking, but even then...

This felt better.

“I did notice you were stressed,” Castiel hummed, as if the water also gave them telekinetic powers, “and I really wanted to help you with that. I know how stress feels.”

“Why did you want to help me out? I bet a lot of people are stressed during the holidays.”

“But none as interesting as you.”

Dean turned his head a little to look at Castiel. It was a mistake – their lips were mere inches apart and Dean didn't trust his body one bit right now.

“What does that mean? You don't even know me.”

“I don't, that's true. But for what it's worth, sometimes you just meet people you want to know better. And none of what's happened tonight has proven me wrong.”

“Not even the running away part?”

“You had excess energy to burn. Besides, I'm always up for a game of tag.”

Dean hummed and let the back of his head fall against Castiel's shoulder. Castiel lifted his fingers to Dean's chest and ran his fingertips up toward his neck. He left them there, and they fell into another silence.

“Are we good? Should we get up?” Castiel asked, eventually. Dean wasn't sure if he'd dozed off again.

Dean whined, but sat up straight. Castiel moved the palms of his hands down Dean's back, emitting a sigh out of him.

“For my next trick,” Castiel said, finally using his voice instead of whispers, “I'm going to show you how a massage bar works.”

“A massage bar,” Dean confirmed, “are you sure?”

Castiel stood up straight, and Dean made sure not to look behind him – he'd have a prime view on Cas' junk if he did. He stared down at the water slowly lowering on the tub, the foggy swirls running across his skin where they met.

“Yes, Dean, I'm sure. You seem tense.”

“To be honest, I feel like I'm being marinated for a Boxing Day dinner right now,” Dean laughed.

“Well, I have you stuffed and marinated. It only makes sense that I rub some oil in you before I apply heat.”

Castiel's voice was somewhat innocent, but the suggestion wasn't. Dean coughed awkwardly to hinder the excitement growing in his chest. What was he so excited about, though? No, even more to the point; how long had he been this excited about possibly getting closer to Castiel?

Since he first stepped in through the Lush door. That's when.

“Take one of the red bathrobes from the hook right there,” Castiel said, “they're clean, and both mine. Roll yourself into it and step out, please.”

Dean did as he was told and stepped through into the living room. The tree still stood there, bringing warm light, and there was a fireplace opposite it. He'd barely noticed it as they had been sitting on the comfortable couch, since it was at an angle towards the front windows. It was a freaking library nook with a warm gray, fluffy carpet in front of the glass door fireplace, two armchairs across a small table with a lamp, and a large white bookshelf just out of sight if you were standing at the entrance of the living room.

Dean sat into one of the chairs and sighed. He was content. No – happy. Somehow, he found himself in a situation that he had no control over; and it wasn't because he was forced, but because someone wanted to take care of him in the most pure, genuine way.

Of course, that was an exaggeration. He couldn't know if Castiel wasn't a murderer, waiting to strangle him while he relaxed under the massage bar. He couldn't know if Castiel had a kink of rendering men helpless under his hands, and he'd be thrown out into the snow in a bathrobe.

“Good choice,” Castiel said, awakening Dean from his nonsense conspiracy theories. “I was thinking about this place in combination to the massage. You can lie down on the carpet, let me just get you a blanket first.”

He was out of sight for a second or two, and returned with two probably hand-knitted quilts. He spread one of them on the carpet, and unceremoniously asked Dean to take the robe off, and get on the floor. Dean nodded and followed his orders a bit absentmindedly, which made Castiel squint at him. When he was facing down, sprawled naked on the blanket, Castiel threw another quilt on him, covering his legs and ass. Then, he placed his hand gently on the small of Dean's back.

“Are you here with me?”

“Hm?”

Castiel came to lie down next to Dean, gently trying to straighten a wild hair behind his ear. They looked at each other in silence, until Dean smiled.

“Yes, I'm here, stupid.”

Castiel nodded. “It's nothing weird that I'm about to do here, but I don't want to touch you if you're not conscious enough to tell me to stop if you don't want me to continue.”

“Thank you. Why are you so nice to me?”

“Because I like you,” Castiel said with a shrug, then sat up and opened what sounded like a tin box. “Now, I've got to tell you, this is not vegan.”

“Castiel! You're blasphemous.”

They both laughed lightly. It was private, and excited.

“This has honey,” Castiel hummed, “and cocoa butter, and cocoa powder. And it's gonna melt on your skin if we don't get this going.”

Dean fucking _moaned_ at the feeling of Castiel's hands on his muscles. Cas had been right – they were indeed sore. He had been more stressed than he knew.

Castiel worked on the knots in his lower back, moving up to his trapezius muscles first between his shoulder blades, then up the back of his neck. Dean was pretty sure Castiel said something at one point, but he either didn't expect for him to answer or realized Dean was too far gone to make coherent words, let alone sentences. All his focus was moved to Castiel's hands, his thumbs gracefully gliding across his skin, finding each painful spot and rendering it a warm, buzzing, love-filled-

_Love_?

Dean snorted at his line of thoughts.

“Hmm?” Castiel prompted.

_Alright, say anything else than what you're currently thinking._

“Uh,” Dean muttered. Castiel pressed his hand on Dean's upper arm, gesturing him to turn around and face him. He did, and Castiel let his eyes wander across his face for a long time. Dean did wonder what he found in there, because his expression changed from focused to warm, and – and admiring. At that moment, all of the affection that had been building up inside Dean just spilled over and he gently placed his hand over Castiel's hand.

“Cas, may I kiss you?”

Castiel frowned, but couldn't help his smile. “Are you coherent enough to give your consent?”

Dean nodded. “I've been coherent since I first saw you and that was when I first kind of wanted to kiss you.”

Castiel leaned in, cupping Dean's face with his warm, cocoa-smelling hand. They melted into a kiss that was slow, chaste, and exploratory – they got acquainted with the proximity, and the taste, and the breathing, and Dean felt he'd never gotten a Boxing Day present that good.

 


End file.
